


Likeness

by rosaleendhu



Category: Weiss Kreuz, Yami No Matsuei
Genre: Gen, Implied Violence, injured child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-23
Updated: 2009-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:31:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosaleendhu/pseuds/rosaleendhu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How could two one-eyed, white-haired madmen meet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Likeness

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Viridian5 for betaing!

No matter where he was in the world, woods would always be the same at night: the tangled branches, the bloody moon, the perfume of death dancing on the air. This was different only in that Muraki did not know the cause of death, even though it had the weight of humanity in the smell.

His footsteps were silent as he swiftly tracked the source. There was opportunity here, if he could only reach it in time. What opportunity he would know when he found the murderer, found the corpse. Muraki always knew a murderer; like called to like.

The sight of the boy fighting to die yet fighting to live gave Muraki pause. The knife in the child’s hands made the child’s intentions clear enough, but the white hair and the manic gleam in the child’s golden eyes made Muraki curious. Besides, the child hadn’t known where to stab and his death would be a slow one. Gut wounds were so messy. What a beautiful, broken doll.

Muraki crouched near, but not so near that he’d be easy prey. “Why?”

It took a moment for the boy to focus on him, and another moment to understand the question. Muraki was always fascinated by how such small bodies could spill so much blood. “T’ spit in God’s eye.”

Muraki found the unexpected reply amusing. “There are easier ways to do that, boy.”

“Garda’ll find me soon.”

Muraki glanced up to see the moon still red. “No. They won’t.” He glanced back down to see the flicker of alarm in the boy’s eyes.

“You won’t touch me. It’s _my_ sin.”

Well. Like called to like. “I’m a doctor.”

The child was silent long enough that Muraki thought that the blood loss had taken his thoughts, and when he did speak, his voice was weak. “Why save a demon?”

“You are not a demon.”

Madness gave the child’s eyes more life than they should have had. “I will be… if I live.”

What a fascinating specimen. “How?” Muraki leaned closer, no longer seeing the point in caution.

The child somehow found the strength to lift his hand, and gently place one bloody fingertip on Muraki’s cheek. “Maybe… your way.”

The child’s breathing grew more labored as his body fought for oxygen that he no longer had enough blood to carry. Time was running out, but Muraki had made his decision. One way or another, the child would be a demon.  
~~~~~~~~~  
Two weeks later, Muraki entered the clinic to slightly more madness than usual. One of the nurses started babbling at him about how they had looked everywhere, but they just couldn’t find the child.

Muraki couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at the news, but he calmly headed for his office and unlocked the door. As he entered, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He closed the door in the nurse’s face.

He didn’t have to look far. Centered perfectly on his desk was a golden eye. The word across Muraki’s papers was written in a reddish brown. _Farfarello._


End file.
